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Sunday, July 19, 2009
Jakarta under terror
I was on the way to the office when my sister mentioned the bombs. It was so peaceful, just an ordinary day. I accused her of joking, a victim of harmless prank by her friend. But no, she said. JW Marriot and Ritz-Carlton Jakarta were bombed at 7.55am. No shit.
The implications were pretty severe. Traffic was everywhere, the national security was on Siaga 1 (the level just below wartime), it stole the spotlights from Manohara and Michael Jackson in the news channels, the president looked angry, sad, dissapointed yet resolute. I thought he handled it pretty well, not a hint of fear regardless of his picture being used as a shooting target by the so-called terrorists.
The finance ministers abruptly broadcasted how they will not allow the dollar to appreciate and wreck havoc amongst traders. I also thought that was very smart. I know that they have no means to do so, but they did the only thing they can: lock in public panic and self-fulfilling prophecy. The dollar will not appreciate under fear and crippling speculation, that much they addressed for the moment.
All in all, this is a tragedy nevertheless of the size of casualties. Indonesia has been under international appraisal for being South East Asia's most vibrant democratic country, a stable economy under the new president. The Thinking General, so he's called. In a way it is sustaining its democratic nature, by allowing free thinkers to express themselves, regardless of how adverse it is.
What saddens me the most I think was this video they had of this Director of a big cement company dying. He and his managers were having breakfast meeting at the JW Marriot that unfortunate morning. The security camera showed everything, from the morning routines of the hotel, a succumbing explosion and immense amount of smoke and rubbles that followed. He was later seen carried out by the firefighters, abandoned on the side of the street while they try to rescue others. He was still alive then. Very badly burnt, his clothes were gone, his left eye was gone and half his face skinless, but alive nonetheless.
There was indeed a footage of him deformed, squealing in pain for help at first. That turned into anger when he realized the only thing he was attracting was people video-taping his state of being. Like some kind of an attraction. He waved his arms in anger, telling them to piss off. But continue taping was the only thing they did, amateurs and professionals alike.
He died, doctors said he could have been saved if he received medical attention sooner.
I had that feeling in the Netherlands when I had my accident. I was unable to walk, on the street waiting for the ambulance. People walked by, asked in anticipation what I was doing there. What happened, they shook their heads in fear when they saw my open knee. But thats it, once they know what the fuss was all about, they left. I also felt like an attraction, and began to despise people who came by for the spectacle.
I thought that was one of the bad things I encountered during my stay there, but unfortunately it is more global that I thought.
The thought of seeing a man crying for help and dying in front of a taping crowd was beyond my understanding. What happened to humanity, a bond between all humans regardless of acquintance? Arent we all social beings who literally cant live without each other? Why should curiosity comes first before time saving, the thin line between living and dying? Why arent we rushing the poor New Zealander to the hospital when we had the chance? Spare the family of the dreadful phone call.
We are under terror, but to me it is a different kind of terror. The lacking of humanity, that is what's attacking us.
The implications were pretty severe. Traffic was everywhere, the national security was on Siaga 1 (the level just below wartime), it stole the spotlights from Manohara and Michael Jackson in the news channels, the president looked angry, sad, dissapointed yet resolute. I thought he handled it pretty well, not a hint of fear regardless of his picture being used as a shooting target by the so-called terrorists.
The finance ministers abruptly broadcasted how they will not allow the dollar to appreciate and wreck havoc amongst traders. I also thought that was very smart. I know that they have no means to do so, but they did the only thing they can: lock in public panic and self-fulfilling prophecy. The dollar will not appreciate under fear and crippling speculation, that much they addressed for the moment.
All in all, this is a tragedy nevertheless of the size of casualties. Indonesia has been under international appraisal for being South East Asia's most vibrant democratic country, a stable economy under the new president. The Thinking General, so he's called. In a way it is sustaining its democratic nature, by allowing free thinkers to express themselves, regardless of how adverse it is.
What saddens me the most I think was this video they had of this Director of a big cement company dying. He and his managers were having breakfast meeting at the JW Marriot that unfortunate morning. The security camera showed everything, from the morning routines of the hotel, a succumbing explosion and immense amount of smoke and rubbles that followed. He was later seen carried out by the firefighters, abandoned on the side of the street while they try to rescue others. He was still alive then. Very badly burnt, his clothes were gone, his left eye was gone and half his face skinless, but alive nonetheless.
There was indeed a footage of him deformed, squealing in pain for help at first. That turned into anger when he realized the only thing he was attracting was people video-taping his state of being. Like some kind of an attraction. He waved his arms in anger, telling them to piss off. But continue taping was the only thing they did, amateurs and professionals alike.
He died, doctors said he could have been saved if he received medical attention sooner.
I had that feeling in the Netherlands when I had my accident. I was unable to walk, on the street waiting for the ambulance. People walked by, asked in anticipation what I was doing there. What happened, they shook their heads in fear when they saw my open knee. But thats it, once they know what the fuss was all about, they left. I also felt like an attraction, and began to despise people who came by for the spectacle.
I thought that was one of the bad things I encountered during my stay there, but unfortunately it is more global that I thought.
The thought of seeing a man crying for help and dying in front of a taping crowd was beyond my understanding. What happened to humanity, a bond between all humans regardless of acquintance? Arent we all social beings who literally cant live without each other? Why should curiosity comes first before time saving, the thin line between living and dying? Why arent we rushing the poor New Zealander to the hospital when we had the chance? Spare the family of the dreadful phone call.
We are under terror, but to me it is a different kind of terror. The lacking of humanity, that is what's attacking us.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Knee Infection
Yes, that wound on my knee is infected. I have been busy with catching up that I completely forgot about my knee. That is, until one day I woke up and the inner crust (the only small part left) is totally gone. Then, I noticed how this transparent liquid started to come out of it. And I started freaking out a little bit. I know my biology skill is relevant with 5th graders, but I thought that it might be white blood cells.
My patriotic white blood cells who fought and lost the battle to evil microbeings rooted in my wound.
It dried after 2 days, so my mom told me to go the doctor for some anti-scar lotion or something. You know, something to preserve my old knee. He gave me this antibiotic lotion to put on my wound because he saw some strange yellow-blackish part on my wound. I applied it dutifully, until I realized yellow stuff actually started to come out. This time my retarded biology-related brain waves a red flag. I had slight fever, and was being a complete drama queen to my sister.
I think my knee is infected.
No it's not. (while looking at my knee)
No? How about now?
No.
Now?
No.
Are you sure?
How about now?
I know. I am a complete bitch when in unchartered water. But turns out being a drama queen is sometimes a good thing, because my knee is infected! So it has been lolipop-frenzy, pony rides and absolute fun here.
NO IT IS NOT, I AM COMPLETELY IN SELF DENIAL.
The doctor prescribed more antibiotic medication to me. He told me that he suspects some alien object is still left in my knee, stitched in absolute ignorance.
Holey shit.
He said there might be a possibility of having another surgeon reopen my stitches, clean it and stitch it back.
Blood drained out of my face. I do not like that possibility. At all.
The worst part is I might not be able to go to my well-deserved vacation to Thailand next month. I am devastated, since I am sincerely looking forward to a week of absolute sightseeing. DAMN YOU, MICROBEINGS, WHY CANT YOU FIND SOME OTHER TIME TO ROOT IN ME.
Please please, microbeings, having known me for a week now I am sure you have developed quite some bond with me right? I believe you have come to like me somehow given how generous I've been to you, letting you stay for free for over a month? So why dont you kindly die and come out as your gross fellow yellow stuff and let mommy go to Thailand?
Or I will resort to ancient crazy-cat-woman chanting to banish you, you little shit.
I did not mean that.
My patriotic white blood cells who fought and lost the battle to evil microbeings rooted in my wound.
It dried after 2 days, so my mom told me to go the doctor for some anti-scar lotion or something. You know, something to preserve my old knee. He gave me this antibiotic lotion to put on my wound because he saw some strange yellow-blackish part on my wound. I applied it dutifully, until I realized yellow stuff actually started to come out. This time my retarded biology-related brain waves a red flag. I had slight fever, and was being a complete drama queen to my sister.
I think my knee is infected.
No it's not. (while looking at my knee)
No? How about now?
No.
Now?
No.
Are you sure?
How about now?
I know. I am a complete bitch when in unchartered water. But turns out being a drama queen is sometimes a good thing, because my knee is infected! So it has been lolipop-frenzy, pony rides and absolute fun here.
NO IT IS NOT, I AM COMPLETELY IN SELF DENIAL.
The doctor prescribed more antibiotic medication to me. He told me that he suspects some alien object is still left in my knee, stitched in absolute ignorance.
Holey shit.
He said there might be a possibility of having another surgeon reopen my stitches, clean it and stitch it back.
Blood drained out of my face. I do not like that possibility. At all.
The worst part is I might not be able to go to my well-deserved vacation to Thailand next month. I am devastated, since I am sincerely looking forward to a week of absolute sightseeing. DAMN YOU, MICROBEINGS, WHY CANT YOU FIND SOME OTHER TIME TO ROOT IN ME.
Please please, microbeings, having known me for a week now I am sure you have developed quite some bond with me right? I believe you have come to like me somehow given how generous I've been to you, letting you stay for free for over a month? So why dont you kindly die and come out as your gross fellow yellow stuff and let mommy go to Thailand?
Or I will resort to ancient crazy-cat-woman chanting to banish you, you little shit.
I did not mean that.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Happy birthday, mom!
Yesterday was Mom's birtday. It was surprisingly alot of fun. We gave her this Oscar trophy-card I found back in Rotterdam, written voor de beste moeder. It was in Dutch, true, but I got the idea that she understood just fine. The look on her face when she opened it was priceless, beaming with this new-found reasonless joy. She immediately looked for the perfect place for it in the house. It was heartwarmingly funny to see her put it in a cabinet, only to take it out and put it in another more suited place. Again, and again, until I lost track of where the card resides now.
We have this thing in our family, the birthday one gets to choose the place to eat that night. Usually my little brother uses this to somehow maneuvre us to eat at where he wants to eat that night. He would be whispering the name of the restaurant he feels like that night from behind the chairs, somehow thinking that we would be brainwashed. He thinks our brains are the size of peanuts. When my Dad realizes this and calls him, he would shriek like a girl: NIK SAID IT, pointing his fingers at me while running away.
Sometimes we get a sneak preview at the top of his underwear too, since he's now into this baggy pants thing. If you by any chance are oblivious to what it means, basically your hips is on the middle of your ass. So when you walk, we can see the upper part of your buttocks speaking. Right foot forward, left ass up: He. Left foot, right ass: Llo. He-llo. He-llo. And... Stop.
Anyways during dinner (we went to Mom's chosen place, my brother wanted to go there too) Dad asked us to pray for Mom before we eat. He started counting down, and I just stared there. I asked silently, to whom? But I dont think Mom would like that. So I hold my hands together and talked to myself,
Hey you. It's me. I know it's been awhile but it's my Mom's birthday. You know she deserves so much more so I wont waste your time by asking what you already knew. I just would like to ask if I can be here again to celebrate her many birthdays to come. I know, I am a selfish girl. But thanks anyway. Oh yeah and please bless this food we are about to digest. I know they are going to come out the same, but they look and smell fan-bloody-tastic! Hurray!
And yes, the food was absolutely fantastic. It was the best Indonesian food I've ever had. The place is new, very romantic. It reminds me of this charming little Italian bistro. Only more formal. I thought to myself WHERE HAVE I BEEN ALL THESE TIME. I had to resist this urge to run into the kitchen, dramatically burst open the door, panting for effect and scream EVERYBODY BUT THE CHEF GO OUT FOR YOUR LIFE. Then when it's just me and the chef, put on the Silar-evil-smile. Bam, he goes onto the walls. I would then point out my index finger in the direction of his forehead. Creeeeeeeeeeeeak. You know how it goes.
We have this thing in our family, the birthday one gets to choose the place to eat that night. Usually my little brother uses this to somehow maneuvre us to eat at where he wants to eat that night. He would be whispering the name of the restaurant he feels like that night from behind the chairs, somehow thinking that we would be brainwashed. He thinks our brains are the size of peanuts. When my Dad realizes this and calls him, he would shriek like a girl: NIK SAID IT, pointing his fingers at me while running away.
Sometimes we get a sneak preview at the top of his underwear too, since he's now into this baggy pants thing. If you by any chance are oblivious to what it means, basically your hips is on the middle of your ass. So when you walk, we can see the upper part of your buttocks speaking. Right foot forward, left ass up: He. Left foot, right ass: Llo. He-llo. He-llo. And... Stop.
Anyways during dinner (we went to Mom's chosen place, my brother wanted to go there too) Dad asked us to pray for Mom before we eat. He started counting down, and I just stared there. I asked silently, to whom? But I dont think Mom would like that. So I hold my hands together and talked to myself,
Hey you. It's me. I know it's been awhile but it's my Mom's birthday. You know she deserves so much more so I wont waste your time by asking what you already knew. I just would like to ask if I can be here again to celebrate her many birthdays to come. I know, I am a selfish girl. But thanks anyway. Oh yeah and please bless this food we are about to digest. I know they are going to come out the same, but they look and smell fan-bloody-tastic! Hurray!
And yes, the food was absolutely fantastic. It was the best Indonesian food I've ever had. The place is new, very romantic. It reminds me of this charming little Italian bistro. Only more formal. I thought to myself WHERE HAVE I BEEN ALL THESE TIME. I had to resist this urge to run into the kitchen, dramatically burst open the door, panting for effect and scream EVERYBODY BUT THE CHEF GO OUT FOR YOUR LIFE. Then when it's just me and the chef, put on the Silar-evil-smile. Bam, he goes onto the walls. I would then point out my index finger in the direction of his forehead. Creeeeeeeeeeeeak. You know how it goes.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Summer Summer Fever
I am officially done with the last exam for the year, and have been putting my spare week to good use before I fly home next Wednesday. Sleep deprived, yes, but happy regardless. Had a lot of catching up with some friends, and we agreed on how quick time flies. We are done with the first year, and will come back from our respective Summer vacations as second year students. We also agreed upon partying the second year even harder since time flies so quickly.
I am juggling so many last minute things before I fly. People to meet, stuff to do, and above all what I want to do. I went out, danced, ran, stepped on dog poo, went to a sailing workshop, did a pub quiz, tried lacrosse, watched kickboxing student championship, went to a themepark with my gay best friend, read and laughed.
It's been good. Very good.
I guess no matter how rough your weeks have been, it all turns out for the best. As cliche as it may sounds, the phrase this too shall pass does have some truth to it.
I am currently very concerned about what to bring my friends and family. I havent bought anything yet, but I will try to find something tomorrow. I am thinking of buying everyone stroopwafels. An image flashed in my mind of the airport security scanning through my luggage and suddenly red lights started to light with that horrible police buzz. Next scene of me being handcuffed in front of the whole airport on the ground of smuggling national treasure, me screaming I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS IN MY LUGGAGE I SWEAR. A young security actually opened my luggage, took out a package of stroopwafels, opened it, took a sniff and looked back to the other officers, nodding gravely. Another officer screamed CHECK HER ASS SHES TOTALLY SMUGGLING SOME MORE THERE.
Right.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Say what you need to say
Tamara Tempura, my little evil niece :-*
I am getting tired of this game. Every human contact seemed somehow like a battlefield, idle on your war strategies and you are worse than skrewed. We are bombarded by social norms, of how things should be. For some reason we ended up with this idea to be the one with the power in a relationship.
And I'm not just talking about romantic relationship. Even some friendships are exhausting to me. To somehow get the balance of "I like you and I really want to spend time with you" and "I have another life so I am not going to spend my 24/7 with you". You have this mindset that you will not let yourself to be outweighed by the first one: to be needy. Because, you know, it's not cool to be needy.
Before you know it, you are too focused on not being needy. Pride preservation ultimately drives you and your friend away, because both find it crucial to have another life.
I am getting tired of it.
I think life is complicated enough without us having to complicate it some more. It seems to me like my brain is constantly conspiring to complicate everything. Take something and magnify it using a NASA telescope, and turn an incredibly dumb look whenever someone brings it up.
What is this false accusation you are making? I do no such magnifying.
But I do. And as hard as it is for me to take it in, there will be no advancement from this point. So here I am trying to simplify things now. It should be more "Yes" or "No" depending on your utility, but no "But" or "If only". It is what it is and the faster you take on that, the faster we can move on.
When you like someone, it is OK to be vulnerable. Take off your battle shields and just go and say what you want to say. After all, why do we care so much about what the other person will think? If it works, then great. If it doesnt, now you know better. You cant win it all, and you've got nothing to lose.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Be strong. Even if only for the time being.
It's happening again. No mater how hard you try to be strong, no matter how hard you tell yourself that it does not matter and you are stronger than it you always find yourself broken. Again, and again.
When you cant be by yourself because your thoughts are suffocating yourself. When it feels like someone is gripping your heart and wont let it go no matter how you plead. When you feel so scared, vulnerable and alone. When you know that you have to save yourself from none other than yourself.
Why is it happening again. I thought we made our peace, I asked myself.
I thought we are stronger than this.
Apparently not. Certain things just linger, no matter how hard you tell yourself that they dont matter. Not to the new you. That you are better than this.
But yet again you fall, again and again.
You thought you moved on, you made peace with your fall and decided that it has only made you stronger. Each time, you try to pick up the pieces and use stronger glue to make it lasts longer. But again and again you fell for the same mistakes. Why cant you learn?
Why wont the knowledge stick?
Why are my demons always the same, no matter how many times I thought I killed it. I guess I am not that strong, that I can only supress it until the next fall.
How I wish for them to never visit me again.
When you cant be by yourself because your thoughts are suffocating yourself. When it feels like someone is gripping your heart and wont let it go no matter how you plead. When you feel so scared, vulnerable and alone. When you know that you have to save yourself from none other than yourself.
Why is it happening again. I thought we made our peace, I asked myself.
I thought we are stronger than this.
Apparently not. Certain things just linger, no matter how hard you tell yourself that they dont matter. Not to the new you. That you are better than this.
But yet again you fall, again and again.
You thought you moved on, you made peace with your fall and decided that it has only made you stronger. Each time, you try to pick up the pieces and use stronger glue to make it lasts longer. But again and again you fell for the same mistakes. Why cant you learn?
Why wont the knowledge stick?
Why are my demons always the same, no matter how many times I thought I killed it. I guess I am not that strong, that I can only supress it until the next fall.
How I wish for them to never visit me again.
Saturday, June 06, 2009
That hole on my knee
Awesome news: my knee is healing! It still looks like Frankenstein, true, but at least I no longer walk like the tin man. I know, I watched too much TV ever since I was on couch arrest. I felt like I was rooting into my combined couches after 1.5 weeks. So this weekend I made a radical decision of separating my couches to start fresh.
I think the worst part is that I was wallowing in self pity and resentment. Resentment from being helpless, from unable to do things I took for granted such go running in a sunny day, lounge on the lake with my novel, go out and wear heels, biking or eating something other than crap Dutch microwave food.
The funny part is that slowly fades away, shifting from anger to acceptance. To accept that theres a black circle, a hole on my previously smooth knee. To realize and accept that life is not smooth and perfect. There are scars, there will be scars. And better learn that now than later I suppose.
I also proved something about me to myself and the doctors: I am the worst patient ever. When I had my stitches, I had to squeeze the nurse's hand so hard to endure the pain. Not to mention the crying, cursing and funny enough, laughing. Even with broken fingers, the nurse managed to laugh at me. She said she wish she will never be present when I give birth. When she saw the blood draining from my face, she laughed and told me she was joking. She later messed my hair and said: "it's OK, you still have a couple of years before permanently damaging the life of your midwife."
What I also find amazing is how the words "at least its not" somehow makes me feel slightly better. At least its only temporary. At least its not infected. At least you still have your leg. At least youre still alive. I was still in my anger phase when my friend told this to me. And I told him that it's easy for him to say since he's not the one with the stitches.
Then another friend started talking to me about her problem, and for some reason I told her at least you dont have stitches on your knee.
So yes, there will be a scar on my knee. And from the look of it, a pretty deep one. I put up a RIP sign for my smooth legs, paid my last respect and brought pretty flowers. But at the moment I am just happy that I can walk. And a story to tell later.